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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25158538">An Attack on His Heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Criminal Minds (US TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Hotch Whump, Hurt/Comfort, I never liked her, One Shot, Panic Attacks, Poor Hotch, screw Haley Hotchner, slight - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:26:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,193</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25158538</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Aaron Hotchner sat with his back against the wall his front door resided on. His right arm was clutching his left shoulder as if he was trying to keep his chest in its right place. His forehead was developing a sheen that highlighted a face that was twisted in pain. He was so clearly hurting, the pallor of his skin was long gone against the backdrop of night. The worst of it was the effort Aaron put towards keeping his shoulders square - it wasn’t working. </p><p>Hotch is having a panic attack and it’s up to Rossi to help him carry himself through.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aaron Hotchner &amp; David Rossi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>84</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Robe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sometimes the kids - because they were kids to him - would joke about it. And they were right: David Rossi did in fact own a robe. Someone had turned him on to the powers of wearing robes while he was on his book tours. That “someone” was a woman. As he embarked on several brief liaisons with some of the most passionate women in America the robe came in handy. He had retired from that life long before coming back to the BAU, but if a beautiful woman wanted to challenge his prowess, he would be willing. </p><p>Dave smiled at the memories. There were so many beautiful girls in the world. </p><p>He kept smiling while he dug out a bottle of port wine and poured it into a glass. Most didn’t care for the richer, heavier feeling of it, one of the ex-wives claimed it was the only liquid she had to chew. It was a deep flavor with high alcohol content, extra. But when paired with a good book, a robe fresh out of the dryer, and his feet up on a coffee table it was giusto. When he was home he denied himself nothing. Dave settled on the couch and crossed his bare feet right over left. </p><p>He was a right over left kind of guy. A simple man.</p><p>The only threat to his evening was the ever-looming threat of a case. Impending doom sounded like the ring of his work phone. He wasn’t going to allow his night to be terrorized by that threat. He had locked his gun away in it’s safe and had squeezed the memories associated with it in the back but the phone stayed out. It stayed on the table near his crossed feet where he could glare it into submission. </p><p>The scene he had manifested for himself for weeks on end was all very charming. Even the book in his hands: it was a novel written by one of those beautiful girls he’d met. Ever the passionate lover, her prose was laced in every touch she’d given him. Reading it on paper was a nice feeling. He began to dig into it on the tail end of a self-indulgent chuckle. </p><p>There was a knock at the door. </p><p>“...-Dear God!” </p><p>It soured the mood very quickly. A cold stone materialized in the center of his gut - was his evening in danger? The knocking sounded like his ringtone.</p><p>“No, no. there will be no case tonight. Whoever that is can wait until later.”</p><p>He pointedly cracked his knuckles and made an effort to weld his shoulders into the couch cushions. His life was always so busy, he didn’t complain enough to warrant this punishment from the universe. He felt like he deserved one evening where someone’s world wasn’t ending-</p><p>-Or just a night where he wasn’t aware of the phenomenon. Who was Rossi to ask for that? Dave closed his finger into his place in the book thoughtfully. His ex-wives had never been able to compete with his job and some days he could barely put up a fist against it. The job wasn’t thankless, just to see the brightening apple cheeks of the survivors, to see the tension just begin to clear as they realize that blunt force pain is temporal - is he selfish for wanting that? It was a drug. Medicine. It was a privilege to go home at the end of the day and lie in wait for the next one.</p><p>Because there was always a “next one”. Always. He was fine and able-bodied, he could handle whatever was at his door. David dog-eared his page and tossed the book onto the coffee table. </p><p>This was who he was. </p><p>‘That person better still be there.’ He sighed as he walked to his front door. “Can I help- Shit!”</p><p>Aaron Hotchner sat with his back against the wall his front door resided on. His right arm was clutching his left shoulder as if he was trying to keep his chest in its right place. His forehead was developing a sheen that highlighted a face that was twisted in pain. He was so clearly hurting, the pallor of his skin was long gone against the backdrop of night. The worst of it was the effort Aaron put towards keeping his shoulders square - it wasn’t working. </p><p>“Aaron what the hell??” David tied his robe tighter and dove to assist his friend into his house.</p><p>The unit chief accepted the arm that moved to support his shoulders (if Aaron was willing to accept help than the problem was much greater than previously thought) and settle him into the couch. Rossi cleared away the things on the coffee table and sat on it across from Aaron. “What’s going on?”</p><p>“I think I’m having a heart attack,” Aaron said through several unhelpful breaths. “There’s pressure on my chest, the more I try to shake it the worse it gets.” Aaron closed his eyes tightly.</p><p>“Okay, shortness of breath and some sweating as well, what else are you feeling?”</p><p>“Dizzy, I had to sit down. Slightly nauseated…I shouldn’t have driven at all...” His eyes snapped open and were paralyzed with knowledge. “My father died of a heart attack.”</p><p>“Aaron! Aaron, you’re young and healthy.” Rossi pushed the notion of death away but Aaron grabbed his forearm.</p><p>“He was 47, I barely got to meet my grandfather for the same reason.”</p><p>The pain was wiring itself between them as Rossi rack his brain for other symptoms. “Are you feeling any pain in your...left shoulder or your jaw or neck?”</p><p>“No.” Aaron battled himself to relax his shoulders bit no body part was listing to him. </p><p>Dave took Aaron’s hand and registered an absolutely flying pulse underneath his fingertips. The hand was trembling and sweating - it unnerved them both Aaron didn’t tremble. This was something he just didn’t do. Aaron tried to pull his hand away but Rossi gripped it.</p><p>“What else?”</p><p>Aaron swallowed. “I don’t know, i-i can’t breathe I feel like this is it for me-” Aaron started gripping his hand tightly as his voice cracked.</p><p>‘Fuck me.’ David didn’t want his own fear to be a factor in the situation.  A Heart attack was not what was going to take Aaron Hotchner from him. It was wasn’t a real possibility in his mind. “Aspirin!” He declared. “Let me get to some aspirin-”</p><p> </p><p>“-Don’t leave.” The last of Aaron’s composure was used up to gasp the command. From then on, cowardice. “Dave please.”</p><p>Aaron didn’t say please to him ever.</p><p>“Aaron I have to get you something! I promise I’ll be right back.” Aaron relented and Dave ran into his kitchen.</p><p>David Rossi was a middle-aged man with a very stressful job - he knew about heart attacks. He had to. Aspirin was somewhere in the medicine cabinet in a big bottle - David got a few tablets and fumbled to fill a glass of water. Out of the kitchen, he returned to where Aaron was on the couch. </p><p>Aaron was slouched against the back of the couch with his hands clutching the base of his neck. A perpetual grimace was plastered on his face but tonight it was desperation. His legs were taught and his knees bounced every so often. He was miserable and trying to stamp his own discomfort down. </p><p>Dave didn’t want to see him like this. He never did. “Take these.” </p><p>Aaron took the glass and shivered as the pills went down.</p><p>“Okay, before anything else, we’ve got to get your breathing back under your control.” Hotch looked at him like he was asking him to drown himself. “Aaron, you’re hyperventilating.”</p><p>“I can’t stop this-”</p><p>“Not alone you can’t. You will not be-” Rossi shook his head instead of saying the word ‘dying’. “-because you couldn’t breathe when you needed to.”</p><p>Dave peeled Aaron’s hands away from the base of his neck and tried to quell the shaking himself. “Look at me, Aaron.”</p><p>Aaron Hotchner’s main place of rest was behind the walls set up in his mind. He would run away from them at the first sign he would be coddled of pursued. Upon peering into his eyes, David worried that someone had banished Aaron back behind his walls with some dangerous force. There was cold fear in his eyes that highlighted the concept of death - ‘he really thinks he’s dying’.</p><p>Horrible.</p><p>Aaron made an effort to match Dave’s breathing but it was a shuddery, unnatural sounding affair. Raw cortisol ran through him as he let Dave begin to feel the extent of his helplessness. </p><p>The pulse was pretty fast, but the heart gave not unhealthy struggle. It wasn’t cardiac arrest obviously, but what would cause this? There had to be some kind of warning if it was a heart attack. He didn’t believe something like this would just happen…</p><p>“You said you drove here?”</p><p>Aaron nodded.</p><p>“Were you trying to get to my house?”</p><p>“What?” Aaron gasped.</p><p>“Where were you before you got here?” Aaron shook his head. “What happened to you? I’m just trying to get a sense of what brought this on?”</p><p>UP until that question Aaron’s eyes had been locked on him. At the question, a frost formed between them, and Aaron began closing himself off. The Hotchner mask of unrealistic calm tried to descend on his face.</p><p>“I was…” Aaron’s eyes were scanning the room as if looking for the right answer. “It’s not important right now.”</p><p>For Rossi, the distance Aaron was creating between them was a physical sensation. Aaron pulled his hands away. At the moment, the unit chief was fighting both fact and fiction. An inky blackness closed in on his at every turn of his life. Now it was worse since he could no longer find the source. The anxiety was a phantom that evaded him when he tried to face it. It mocked him and made him feel crazy while it took his breath away. </p><p>“Okay, Aaron. How are you feeling now?” Aaron’s breathing decayed from short, staccato gasps to a body that was hauling air in, but the pain didn’t seem to lessen.</p><p>“The pressure is lifting.”</p><p>“That’s good. Here’s what I know, heart attacks don’t subside. Panic attacks do.” Rossi liked Aaron having a panic attack much more than he liked Aaron having a heart attack. “You’ve got all the right symptoms-”</p><p>“You misunderstand me, Dave, It still feels like I’m dying.” Aaron urged him.</p><p>“That’s a panic attack, Aaron.” Rossi soothed. “This is okay, you’re going to-”</p><p>“No.” He shook his head and tried to stand up shakily. “I don’t have panic attacks, that’s not what this is.”</p><p>Dave thought about trying to corral him back onto the couch. “You can, anyone can. You need to breathe and stop fighting this or it won’t stop.” Aaron turned away from him. “And it will stop if you can manage that.”</p><p>Aaron groaned. “How long until it stops hurting?”</p><p>“What’s hurting-”</p><p>“Everything!” Aaron blurted the word out than put a hand over his mouth as if trying to pull the word (the emotions that came with it) back in. He felt himself running out of whatever he was running on. He feared what would happen if he touched bottom and ran on empty, his greater fear was of what he would subject his friend to seeing in the process. “I-I’m so sorry.”</p><p>“...Panic attacks usually-”</p><p>“I’m not-” Aaron’s sentence feel apart as his body worked to hold something inside of itself. All he could do was shoot a Hotchner glare at him and bristle at himself being helpless. “This is just-...this is just-”</p><p>“-Give it 20 to 30 minutes. Now, will you please sit down so you don’t exhaust yourself??” Dave beseeched him.</p><p>When Aaron was standing he still had the ability to run from whatever he may need to run from. He couldn’t sit down. “I’m fine.”</p><p>“Are you?” Aaron bit his lip and started pacing around the room. If this was how Aaron wanted to ground himself he would allow it. NO use trying to contain him that way. “Aaron, you’re worrying me.”</p><p>Small comforts like “you’re going to be okay” and “I’m not leaving you” were useful only when Aaron was absolutely beat. At the moment Rossi wanted to use them but Aaron was liable to throttle him if he felt he was being coddled. </p><p>“I swear I’m not trying to be like this. This has never happened before.” He said tightly. “I don’t even know why I came here just to argue with you.”</p><p>“That doesn’t matter. You are here and something substantial has upset you. This is a safe place for you to decompress.”</p><p>Hotch tried to sardonic laughter but it was just a bitter sounding rattle. He rubbed his hands together and turned to his friend abruptly. “I can’t do this. Can we talk-” really, it was just a whisper. “-or will that make it worse?”</p><p> </p><p>“It may, maybe not for you.”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>The silence was always deafening with Aaron but this was special. Aaron was a profiler, he could use logic to try to get out of his issues and he could use his talent to decide what clues he would throw out for Rossi to catch on. </p><p>“...I went to the doctor the other day.” Aaron said sounding distracted. </p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>“He said I was getting skinny.” </p><p>Rossi didn’t fully believe Aaron actually scheduled doctor appointments. Well...the man before him wasn’t gaunt by any means, but the tailored suits he wore weren’t fitting as well as they used to. Aaron wasn’t particularly lithe, but being “lean” was in the wheelhouse of the tallest agent he knew. </p><p>“Did you run track in high school?”</p><p>“I should have.” This was good. “I joined the theater club the year I would have. If it wasn’t for...I hate this.” Aaron walked behind the coffee table and let himself fall back onto the couch. “I really hate this. How long has it been.”</p><p>“Almost 5 minutes.” Aaron placed his hands on his knees. “Focus on breathing.”</p><p>“I know I just...when did it all go to shit?”</p><p>“With your health?”</p><p>“With my life.” Aaron put his head in his hands and allowed the stiffness in his shoulder to dissipate. “Everything should have come together logically. We find broken men and broken families in almost every case. We build profiles on who they are and have whole equations for their kind of brokenness. We know how this happens but I still can’t get it right!” </p><p>His tone was wrought with disdain for himself and the syllables etched confusion in his brow. Rossi didn’t like it when Aaron’s mind created this “logical spin”. There was no way to help him out of it...all he could do was set a hand on his shoulder.</p><p>“Aaron, the course of your life does not rely on these profiles. They are serial killers Aaron. Life doesn’t have a “should”, it has a “maybe” and you have attributed your plans to it.”</p><p>“Is 20 minutes up yet?”</p><p>“It’s not quite been 7. Are you feeling better?” Aaron grunted and cleared his throat. “So no. We could have the same conversation we always do or you could, you know, tell me what’s going on now.” Rossi got closer to him. “What brought this on?”</p><p>Aaron considered this, but would rather orbit the issue. </p><p>“After your-” Aaron made a vague gesture with his hands. “-I mean, you never felt like you ruined your wives did you?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Shoulder</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“This is a new one…Aaron, however, Haley chose to cope with the situation...it’s not a direct reflection of you. It’s not a sign that you ruined her. Come on, you know her.”</p><p>Aaron’s eyes darkened and the distance grew between them. “I thought I did.”</p><p>The progress - the emotional healing he’d done since the divorce was gone. Aaron didn’t have much of an ego left after the divorce, just a working rudder that took him back to work every day. Every hair on the senior agent’s head was straining to understand why he was acting as he’d just been served. His friend was typically methodical and headstrong...now he resembled his son. </p><p>“I want to want to talk about this.” Aaron closed his eyes and turned his face up to the ceiling. “But she-...”</p><p>“We can get to it. Let’s flesh this out. Do you want something to drink?” Aaron shook his head. They just sat for a moment simmering in the silence. Aaron’s knee vibrated up and down, Rossi just wanted to clamp it down. He couldn’t tell him to put his feet up, but he made a point to hit his heel on the coffee table himself. Aaron met him halfway putting the leg that wasn’t jumping next to his. He also managed a deep breath.</p><p>“...I’m just worried. I’ve already set a bad example for Jack having guns in the house, letting him seem me when I’ve been battered...I try not to argue with Haley when he’s near. I don’t need him to hear that.” </p><p>Guns have never been one of Aaron’s complaints. Why now?</p><p>“I’m not seeing the point. You’ve always done your best.”</p><p>“But statistically he’ll follow my footsteps.” </p><p>“He’s your son. It’s natural for him to want to be you.” Rossi reasoned.</p><p>Aaron’s face was turning slightly green…”That is NOT what I want. I’ve already ruined the concept of marriage for him, why not skew his vision of healthy relationships in general??” Rossi watched Aaron begin overcompensating. He was trying every human pose to self-soothe: Crossing his arms, backing into the couch, bringing a knee to his chest. “I might never forgive myself. I would never forgive my mother and father for this.”</p><p>“For what?” Rossi tried to make eye contact to bring him down -Aaron was scanning the room for a way out. “Aaron it’s been 10 minutes.”</p><p>Aaron made a weird coughing sound and turned away from him. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t feel different.”</p><p>“This is what I’ve been saying. This is the culmination of you being exhausted for months now.-”</p><p>“-It’s a part of the job-” Aaron groused.</p><p>“-it’s a part of what will give you a heart attack. You’re tired.-”</p><p>“-not tired enough to get like this!”</p><p>Rossi stood up. “‘Like this’ is normal human sadness gone bad. Why do you have to do this to yourself?! What good is beating yourself up every time you force yourself to be alone-”</p><p>“-Unlike her, I could never. I am trying to be fair to her!“ Aaron FaceTime with an hour of self-righteousness Rossi hated especially in him. He was beginning to think he actually had to break Aaron apart to start putting him back together.</p><p>He liked that plan.</p><p>“Yes, I’m sure that’s the honorable thing to do!” He threw back as sarcastically as possible. “ must you revisit this so often? Why today? What are you running from?”</p><p>“I’m not running from anything!“</p><p>“Then what is chasing you! A shadow of yourself maybe?” Rossi added more heat to his tone. “You’re usually right. Maybe I’ve been wrong this whole time.“</p><p>“Are you suggesting that this is my fault??”</p><p>“You did something.“ Aaron groaned to the ceiling like he was in pain.</p><p>“Why are you judging me right now?“ Aaron’s voice cracked. “You. With three divorces.“</p><p>“You didn’t come here to track me down at all. This isn’t about me right now. Don’t throw me under the bus if you feel threatened.”</p><p>“I AM THREATENED.” And yelled but it was a broken sound. Aaron blinked his eyes and hugged himself.</p><p>Rossi had to pull one more pin in order to get to the center. He was certain that this needed to happen and was certain that it had to hurt.</p><p>“How could you possibly be threatened? Look at you.” He said bitterly. He tried for a scoff but… He didn’t mean for this to happen at all.</p><p>“I can’t-“ Aaron Took a rattling breath and tried to turn away again. Rossi caught him with both hands on his biceps. “ we were arguing like usual…“</p><p>“What. Did. You. Do.“ Rossi shook him and the beginnings of tears began to crawl out of his friend’s eyes.</p><p>“It was normal, I didn’t realize how angry she was…“ This was the emotional threshold. Aaron was of the opinion that he “didn’t” cry, Rossi was of the opinion that he needed to. Aaron covered his mouth with his hand when something close to whimper came instead of words.</p><p>“I’m sorry, let me rephrase. What did she say to you?” </p><p>“...she *hit* me…”</p><p>The pain face returned in all its glory. With it came a whole host of sounds that had to dig their way out sounding have stifled. Aaron was again fighting himself to stay calm and losing valiantly. The sobs were ragged and disintegrated into those hiccuping coughs that nearly broke Rossi down with him.</p><p>“I didn’t-I didn’t say a damn thing wrong but she just-“ Aaron was talking with his hands hoping they would articulate better. “She wouldn’t have done that before any of this happened!“</p><p>Aaron started pacing frantically again trying to find a way out of hurting. He no longer allowed himself to look at Rossi, he wanted no outside comfort. Dave saw this internal struggle but he also heard the noise it was typically inside of the unit chief's mind leaking out. Watch never showed if he was angry with Halle. Never. In public, he took the blame. In private he presented information objectively creating two partners that each did things.</p><p>Nobody could ever be on his side since he didn’t create signs. Even if he did, nobody would be allowed on his.</p><p>Aaron keened as he attempted to scrape his dignity together. Rossi sat on the coffee table again.</p><p>“ Aaron please sit down.“</p><p>“ Dave, stop!“ He pleaded oozing shame.</p><p>“Come here.“ Rossi was sharp with him. Aaron abstained from stopping his foot before moving stiffly to sit on the couch. “Now look at me.“</p><p>On FaceTime but his eyes were closed off completely. Rossi, he touched his chin gently and examined the face closely searching it for something he didn’t already know. Comfort mode was now being employed fully and without the “Aaron sensitive” hesitation. </p><p>“Where did she hit you?“ He asked gently.</p><p>Aaron’s head bowed as he touched his left cheek. It was a tinge of red with her hand head connected to his skin… It was now a steady stream of wetness cutting through it. Dave felt his eyes darken at the sight.</p><p>“It didn’t hurt that bad and I checked it. It doesn’t look bad-“</p><p>“She gave you this smart to inflict bodily harm. Malice.“ Rossi admonished the small voice that Aaron was using. “What the hell happened to you??”</p><p>Hotch sniffled and brushed his hand away. “I’m being ridiculous…”</p><p>“Don’t. Not now.” Rossi held his head between his hands. “Right now you need to feel this. You need to cry and understand what this really means.”</p><p>Aaron stifled another sob when his friend wiped his tear tracks away with his thumbs. “It hurts.”</p><p>“I know it does. I am so sorry you hurt Aaron. I am so sorry you don’t feel my comfort.” I promise you, this is a safe place for you.” This time that Rossi wrapped his arms around him, Aaron submitted. His body was tired, his neck muscles relaxed until his forehead was resting on his shoulder and weight leaned on his chest. “Tell me more.”</p><p>“Jack saw the whole thing-” it was too soon for Aaron to grieve the innocence of his son. This was the end of the world for him.  “-he saw his father get hit by his mother! Dave! This is going to fuck him up and I-I don’t know what I’m going to say to him-”<br/>Rossi didn’t know what to say. </p><p>“-I don’t want him to grow up and hold this against me, I don’t want him to grow up and -god forbid he ends up in such an unhealthy relationship- and let himself get hit or-or end up hitting someone he’s supposed to love-” The words didn’t stop. Aaron couldn’t stop them. He couldn’t make the effort to slow the thousand angles he had examined already while driving to Rossi’s house minutes ago. “-I’m supposed to love her.”</p><p>Rossi, too, recognized that this was the source of the panic attack. </p><p>“You do. Aaron. You love her and that’s why this hurts so much. You love people with everything you have and you can’t help but let it kill you.” Rossi squeezed him tightly. “You can’t let us see you die either. You know what it’s like to watch the ones you love die.”</p><p>Aaron nodded. “I see it every fucking case, every fucking time.”</p><p>“I won’t tell anyone, I won’t remind you of this.” Dave uncurled himself off his friend and leaned back on the couch. “But if you feel like hurting tonight, I won’t leave.”</p><p>Aaron wiped his eyes and leaned on his shoulder. </p><p>Rossi threw an arm over his shoulders. “It’s my job.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Again please comment, I think I'm leaving it here.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>please comment, first time writing in this fandom</p></blockquote></div></div>
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